


My Gun is Bigger than Your Gun

by heyitsamorette (AmoretteHD)



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Bane lives, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Post-Canon, Situational Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/pseuds/heyitsamorette
Summary: There's no time to lose, and John has no choice.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marourin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marourin/gifts).



> Dear Marourin, I'm so thrilled to have met you this year and to be able to share the Batman and TDKR love with you ♥ You are so much fun and I adore you. Please accept this little fic, I hope it puts a smile on your face. 
> 
> Thank you QueenThayet for betaing!

John held his gun steady. He was a good shot, and he could have shot Bane in the face three times over. But he couldn’t pull the trigger.

Blood pounded in his ears so he couldn’t be sure he had heard Bane correctly: there was a bomb, swiftly ticking and ready to detonate, in the basement of Gotham City Hall. Barely enough time to evacuate. No time to even sound a very futile alarm.

Bane chuckled, the sound emanating from deep in his throat and warped ominously by the mask, as he hooked his thumbs in his vest. He took a step closer, boots thudding heavily on the marble floor, and towered over John.

“There is only one way to stop the bomb,” Bane said, voice laced with amusement. It sent a stab of hatred through John’s chest.

John re-aimed the gun. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot.”

“No, you won’t. I have a bigger gun than you, little cop. And if you shoot me, how will you ever find out the code?”

“The code?” John swallowed. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. His body was flooded with adrenaline, he could feel it course down his arms, up his spine—little rivulets of energy. Every instinct, every bit of training, was telling him to shoot. But he couldn’t.

“The code to defuse the bomb. Don’t you want to know what that is? You have enough time to stop it.” Bane put out his hand in declaration. “If only you knew the code.”

He did have enough time. John’s mind raced through the calculation. The elevator was the fastest way down to the basement, and even from here on the seventh floor, it would only take three minutes at most to reach it. If he left now, he’d have about a minute to defuse it—if he knew the code.

“Don’t fuck with me, Bane. If you know what it is, then tell me.”

“Of course, I know it. I came up with it.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

The chuckle again. The sound of it seemed to reach in and grab John’s insides, twisting and turning somewhere deep within. Making his heart pound.

“I can give it to you, but what can you give to me?”

“This isn’t a game, people’s lives are at stake, you fucking lunatic!”

“And if you want to save them, you will find something to give me.”

John exhaled hard. What the hell did he have that Bane wanted? What in the world could he give him? John didn’t have any money, and he wasn’t highly ranked enough in the Gotham P.D. to know government secrets. He had nothing to offer Bane.

The mask covered the bulk of Bane’s face in fierce metal fangs, but his eyes showed sharp and clear. The way he looked at John made him nervous, although he couldn’t quite place why. It might have been the arch of the brow, or the glint of some unspoken meaning.

“It will be easy,” Bane said, stepping even closer. John stood his ground, not letting his arms waver. Still, Bane only tapped the gun aside with the back of his hand. A delicate movement that John would not have expected from him. “All you have to do…” he trailed off, bringing the same hand closer to John’s face. Gently, he dragged the back of two fingers across John’s jaw.

John inhaled sharply. His heart hammered as he raised the gun again, but Bane clutched it in his fist and pried it easily from John’s hands. He tossed the gun and it skid across the marble, like it were toy.

John looked up at him, trying to gain the answer in Bane’s eyes. Despite not having said it aloud, his meaning was deafeningly clear.

Heat and anger pooled in his lower abdomen. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You would let everyone in this building die?”

John scowled. “You’re a monster.”

Bane’s eyes only glittered with mirth. “I have been told that before.” Everywhere Bane hand made contact with his face, John’s skin burned. His thumb reached John’s bottom lip, flicking it. John’s lips parted on his inhale. “Tell me, cop,” Bane’s voice became deeper, “have you ever sucked cock before?”

John trembled and clenched his fists. Yes, of course he had. But he was never going to tell Bane that. Embarrassment licked at his face and made him flush. Perhaps it gave him away.

He considered his own pride. What did it mean in the face of countless innocent lives? Nothing. Besides, it’s not like anyone would know. No one was here to see. Just Bane. And it was just a blow job.

He could convince himself to do this. Oh, god, he _had_ to convince himself. People were going to die; countless lives were at stake. The city hall employees working in the floors below them had no clue what awaited them, and John practically decided their fate.

Unless Bane was lying. John could slap himself for not considering this earlier. He was just so desperate for any kind of answer, grasping at straws, whatever would lead to saving everyone. He would do whatever it took.

He set his jaw. He knew he would do whatever it took. There was nothing else for it. Bane could tear his pride away inch by inch, humiliate him, trick him, lie to him to get him to degrade himself. And in the end it would be worth it if John could get to the bomb in time. If there was a chance… even one chance…

He made his hands move before his brain could catch up and stop him. A surprised grumbling noise escaped Bane’s throat when John’s fingers reached his zip. His hand came to rest on John’s shoulder, a solid weight that punctuated the gravity of what John was about to do. He allowed the hand to push him steadily, resolutely, to his knees. The floor was hard underneath him, and Bane’s boots knocked against him. Bane’s groin so close to his face, he could smell the earthy wear on the cargo pants—gun powder at every inhale.

He reached his hand past the flap of Bane’s zip, where it was warm and impeded by a layer of cotton underwear, and eventually touched on Bane’s shaft. His breath left him, abandoning his body suddenly at the feel of Bane’s hot skin. He pulled the shaft out, and his mouth fell slack.

He was supposed to suck on _this_? The head alone would fill his mouth comfortably. The rest would stretch him open. He couldn’t imagine fitting this monster cock down his throat. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought, as though in preparation, and he swallowed thickly.

“What are you waiting for?” Bane said, and John’s eyes jerked up to him. From his position on the floor, Bane was impossibly big. He began to chuckle.

That’s when John decided to shut him up, and he squeezed the shaft in his fist as he leaned in, tongue extended. He licked Bane from as close to the bottom as he could, his chin digging into the cargo shorts against what John was sure were Bane’s balls, and he dragged his tongue all the way to the top. The feeling of Bane’s cock hardening by the second sent an unexpected thrill up his spine.

Bane’s mechanical groan made everything around him sharpen. John was in a position he never thought he’d be in, debasing himself willingly.

When the slick and musky precome touched his lips, John hissed in a breath, which only prompted another amused half-groan-half-chuckle from above. He squeezed his eyes shut and parted his lips around the tip, taking the soft head into his mouth until it rested on his tongue. The taste overwhelmed his senses. He pulled off again in something that resembled a kiss, but which most definitely wasn’t. A string of precome stuck to his lips.

“Hurry up.” Bane’s hand left his shoulder to wrap demandingly around the back of John’s head. “Or do you want to waste time?”

Spurred by his words, his urgency returned and John took the head into his mouth again and this time swallowed him as far as he could. The blunt head pressed against the back of his throat and he gagged, pulling off again. He inhaled deeply once before repeating the motion, this time bobbing his head around the shaft a few times before the gagging returned. Bane was right: he had no time. His one objective was to satisfy Bane’s desire to see him humiliated, and if he had to put on a show, then that’s what he would do.

He sucked Bane’s cock like he never had before; like Bane’s cock was the reason he breathed. His lips were stretched, unaccustomed to such girth, and his eyes stung with tears. Even his nose was beginning to get wet, and he could only imagine what he’d look like if it started to run. Debauched and ruined. His saliva was already dripping down his chin as he sucked and bobbed and licked without pause. He coughed around the head and pushed through the urge to gag, willing it down and focusing solely on the task in front of him.

When he couldn’t breathe anymore he pulled off, aware of Bane’s firm grip at the back of his neck. He gasped for air, swallowed down the mixture of saliva and precome pooling in his mouth. His face was hot, and surely his cheeks were inflamed. He looked up at Bane again.

Bane’s own breathing was ragged, and the mask amplified it into a terrifying sound. His eyebrows met in a deep crease. “Is that all you can do?” A bead of sweat trickled down Bane’s forehead, catching the light. “I will only tell you the code if you make me come.”

John choked himself on Bane’s cock despite having barely caught his breath. He put everything he had into it, sucking on the downstroke, swallowing around the fat head, slurping his own drool as he bobbed back up again.

Make him come. Make him come. Licking up the shaft. Make him come. Kissing the head. He glanced up, and Bane’s eyes were on his, dark and dangerous.

Bringing his other hand to John’s face, Bane took hold of both sides of his head in a firm grip. Then he began to thrust. John had no choice but to keep his neck slack, scared it might snap from Bane’s handling. He brought his hands up to grip Bane’s thighs, steadying himself for the beating he was about to receive. The inevitable face fucking, since that’s what Bane wanted now. John relaxed his throat as much as he could against the intrusion, and luckily only the tip skewered him. He had no choice but to surrender to the brutal thrusting, drooling and panting for breath.

After moments that felt like hours, Bane growled and slowed the pace of his hips. John dug his fingers into Bane’s thighs, feeling the muscles tense in his hands. It was coming. He expected it, and yet with that final, jerky thrust, he wasn’t ready for it. Bane’s come filled his mouth, the taste of it making John’s head spin.

He swallowed, even as come dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

Bane pulled out with an embarrassing suction noise, and he gripped his cock in his hand, slapping the head softly against John’s cheek. It sent waves of hot humiliation through him. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, scrubbing at his face.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw Bane putting his cock away behind the flap of the zip. It was still mostly hard.

“The codes.” He voice startled him. It came out hoarse and deep. “You promised.” Bane’s throaty chuckle was a slap across the face, a dirty punch in the gut. John scrambled to his feet. “WHAT IS THE CODE!”

He didn’t even know if he had enough time anymore. Didn’t know if he would make it. How long had he been blowing him? A minute? An hour?

Bane’s thumbs clutched his vest. “Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no code.”

John’s heart became a leaden weight in his chest and he thought he might fall to his knees again any moment. He swayed, dizzy, and clutched at his head. The bomb was going to go off anyways. It couldn’t be stopped. There was no code.

“Don’t you see?” Bane said as he turned his back to him. He reached the elevators and pressed the little button to go down. It lit up green. He looked back at John over his shoulder. “There is no bomb.”

By the time his brain processed this information, the elevator doors were closing around Bane. The last thing he saw was that mirthful glint in his eyes.

John felt paralyzed, his aching legs refusing to move. All he could do was breathe and stare at the shiny elevator doors as one thought circled again and again in his mind. A disorienting thought.

He was impossibly, achingly hard.

 

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me on tumblr: [@heyitsamorette](https://heyitsamorette.tumblr.com/)


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